Page 45 of Knight of Chaos
Richard went to the window to open the shutter. He took several deep breaths before he spoke. “We must needs ask the Empress’s permission to leave and search for your wife.”
“And make our way to Calbridge as soon as we are able. With a couple days head start, she is likely to lock you out of your own keep if you do not get to her first,” Oswin stated.
Theobald began pacing again and became lost in thought. If he was in Ingrid’s place, would he truly head to the grand estate that now belonged to him? Nay. She would not, which left only one place for her to go.
“She is not heading to Calbridge,” he muttered in annoyance.
“Penhow?” Reynard suggested.
“Nay,” Theobald growled out. “She is heading toward London and the farm where she grew up.”
Oswin cursed. “Why the devil would she go there?”
Theobald stopped his pacing and one brow arched upwards. “Because ’tis the last place she would expect me to look. Trust me… she is heading home.”
Richard nodded and headed toward the doorway. “I will inform the Empress we must leave immediately.”
Reynard followed behind him. “I will go ready the horses.”
“Pack light. Bring only what is necessary. We travel fast and hard. If you cannot keep up, I will leave you behind,” Theobald stated before he went to his own trunk and started to load his things into a leather satchel.
Oswin stood still as he watched Theobald move about the room. He finally stopped packing. “Well? Do you need a special invitation to join us?” he asked.
Oswin grinned. “I just wanted to ensure you wished me to accompany you.”
Theobald nodded. “Aye. I might have need of your sword. Besides… I trust you.”
Oswin nodded and bolted out the door leaving Theobald to resume his packing. His stubborn wife was in for a surprise when he finally caught up with her… That is, if he could find her. He did not mention to his brother or friends that Ingrid had never revealed in exactly what town outside of London her farm was located. He had a general idea, but the countryside was large and the village could be located anywhere.
He swore he would find her no matter the cost. One thing was for certain… nothing and no one would ever tear them apart again once she was back in his arms!
Chapter Thirty-One
Ingrid knelt bythe glowing fire and proceeded to cut up the rabbit that she had been roasting over their makeshift spit. The meal would have to nourish them for the day. ’Twas not much of a meal to feed three people but she gave the larger portions to the two knights sitting across from her. She nibbled at the meager offering on her tin plate. She could barely choke the food down.
The ride across the countryside thus far had been uneventful and Ingrid was thankful that they had not encountered any obstacles—or Theobald himself. She was certain he would head in the opposite direction toward Calbridge… That is, if he attempted to follow her at all.
“He is going to kill us—if the Empress does not get to us first,” Blake muttered as he ate his food.
“’Twas a terrible plan to begin with,” Kingsley grumbled, too. “Whatever were we thinking? The Empress will not think kindly of us for not asking her permission to leave Gloucester.”
Ingrid set her plate aside. “You did not have to agree to accompany me. You could have refused.”
“And let you go alone?” Kingsley proclaimed with wide eyes. “That would have been just as bad if not worse.”
Blake nodded. “Theobald will not be forgiving. I can almost feel the beating as if his fists have already bruised my body.”
“You two are complaining like a pair of old women,” Ingrid mumbled whilst attempting to keep her own concerns from her features. “Where are the courageous knights I fought alongside at Winchester?”
Kingsley chuckled. “They lost their minds and became senile the moment they agreed to help you leave Gloucester. ’Tis obvious whatever sanity we had has left us, my lady.”
Ingrid threw a stick into the fire. “Just Ingrid, if you would not mind.”
“’Tis bad enough we are here with you,” Blake began and then continued, “but ’twill only be worse if we do not respect your station in life. You are no longer Mistress Ingrid Seymour as you once were.”
“Aye,” Kingsley agreed. “You are from a noble house and must needs remember that, my lady.”
“Fine… if you insist.” Ingrid gave up trying to convince them of addressing her informally. She should be grateful they had complied with her wishes for aid in the first place.
